


Angel Feathers (Supernatural- Spider-Man AU)

by PagesInAChapter



Series: Superspider [2]
Category: Marvel, Spider-Man - Fandom, Supernatural
Genre: AU, M/M, angel - Freeform, spiderverse, superhero
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-01-15 09:56:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18496579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PagesInAChapter/pseuds/PagesInAChapter
Summary: When the Night Owls perished in the explosion of the UnderGround Base, Dean thought the danger was over. After all, he's successfully rekindled his brotherly friendship with Sam, adopted Charlie into the family, and is well on the way to a proper relationship with his neighbour Castiel. However, his unstable life as Dean Winchester is threatened when a fabled hero, Angel, arrives in Spider-Man's city, bringing with him dangers from the past.Will Spider-Man and Angel band together to defeat the darkness on the horizon? Or will they fight for their territory and their mutual love?





	1. Fall From Grace

"You sure you'll be okay?" Gabriel asked anxiously, hugging his knees to his chest. They were sitting on the roof of the Shirley's House for Children, watching the sunset dip below the quiet streets. Within the house, the family was clattering around as they cleaned up their dinner, talking and laughing and wrestling. Siblings were bad enough. A house full of foster brothers and sisters was twice as bad.

Angel swung his legs off the edge of the gutter, turning his face into the wind. "I've been doing patrols since I was _thirteen_ , Gabriel. I'll be fine."

Gabriel simply pulled a face. Even with that full mask covering Angel's features, Gabriel knew that something had snapped within the superhero. His first real drama had ended less than a week ago, and Angel wore his pain and regret on his sleeve, as plain as the wings on his back. Nightly patrol drama wasn't what Gabriel was worried about. But if Angel said he could handle it, then Gabriel wasn't going to be the one to stop him.

Angel stood up, dusting off his jumpsuit while Gabriel watched, brushing a lock of golden hair behind his ear. He'd never liked that jumpsuit. It looked so.... basic.

"Hey. Chicken Wings. I got something for you." Angel looked up, curious, as Gabriel fished a crinkled white domino mask, edged in gold, from the pocket of his dressing gown. "Here. Happy birthday."

Angel grinned behind the mask. "Keep it. I'll collect it from you when I get back okay?"

"Okay."

Angel spread his wings, black feathers rustling in the breeze, and stepped to the edge of the roof. At the least second he paused and glanced back. "You sure you don't want to come? We could be a good duo. It'd be nice to have someone with me."

In response to this Gabriel laughed, letting blue lightning dance between his fingers and lift his hair with static. "I'd rather not do the whole superhero thing. Besides, it's a small town. I doubt it needs two vigilantes to keep it crime-free. Trust me, you do just fine on your own."

"Suit yourself. I'll see you later." Angel sprang from his perch and soared letting the breeze catch and carry him above the sleepy houses, away from Gabriel.

In a way, he mused as he flew, Gabriel was right. This city barely even needed the vigilante it had, let alone another one. Besides, having a partner with the power of electricity would definitely had not helped during the flood last week...

Without meaning to, Angel's thoughts snapped back to that moment. Heavy rains. Days of thunderstorms. The river had burst its banks, flooding backyards and drains and roads, making it difficult to drive. It wasn't a newsworthy flood, no, but a traumatic one for everyone in this town. It had been a rough week for Angel, delivering supplies to families who couldn't get them, plucking cats out of storm drains and dogs out of flooded yards, all with feathers too waterlogged to fly. There had been some losses, sure, through car accidents and drownings, but only some. Yeah, that had been a bad few days.

A tiny sound yanked Angel out of his daydreams and he blinked sharply. Crime? Perhaps. The sound was similar to that of a gun being cocked. Where? Where? Angel tilted one wing, flying in a lazy circle as he searched for the source, as intent as a raptor circling its prey. A sound like that wouldn't carry far, so it stood to reason that whatever was happening was going on nearby–

_Bang!_

The bullet sunk into Angel's chest, blood blooming like a rose dropped into the snow. Angel shrieked, flapping madly to keep from crash landing, hands pressed against the wound. Within seconds the blood had soaked through his gloves, leaving them stained in red. He had to find a place to land. Now. Surely it was an accident. Blood poured from his chest, splattering against the road below. Surely it was an accident. Surely–

_Bang!_

The second bullet tore straight through Angel's wing, painting the night in an arc of blood and broken feathers.

Angel howled his pain and fell, darkness building at the edges of his blurring vision as the road shot up to meet him.

Bright headlights pierced through Angel's sleep, waking him just in time for him to roll to one side, out of the path of the car. Everything hurt. It hurt, but in a dull, faded way. As if the pain belonged to someone else. Angel dug his fingernails into his palms, forcing himself to stay awake. If he passed out again, he may never wake up. This, he knew in his bones.

One hand after another. A fence. Grab the fence. Up to his feet, agony burning through his chest, his wing. One step. Wing dragging on the ground, feathers slick with blood. Couldn't be good for it. Couldn't even feel it. Didn't matter.

Another step. Knee buckling. Grab the fence, hold onto it. It was the only thing keeping Angel from collapsing. A reedy wail escaped his throat and the door connected to the house connected to the fence swung open, revealing an adult man holding a baseball bat. The bat dipped as he took in the blood on Angel's uniform, the tears on the joints, the strip torn from his mask to expose one frightened eye.

"Angel? Oh my god. Janet, call an ambulance, now!"

"No." Angel croaked, falling to his knees. His vision swam. Blood. Everywhere. He was drowning it its stench, in the stains it left on his hands, his heart. "Call... Shirley... _Gabriel_...."

The man cast the bat aside and hurried out towards Angel. "Honey, change of plans. Call Shirley's, ask for Gabriel."

As gently as he could, the man scooped Angel up in his arms like a child. As gentle as he tried to be, the jolt was bad enough to send Angel spinning back into the darkness. With luck he would stay in its depths forever, never waking up to face the pain. 

But luck never seemed to be on Angel's side these days.


	2. Golden Orb Weaver

Dean's dreams were filled with fire these days.

Fire, ripping apart his house, stealing away his mother. Fire in baby Sammy's eyes as their dad held them on the lawn, cuddling his sons close as their home, their life, burned in the dark. Fire, filled with the screams of civilians as Dean stalked the halls, searching for people to save. Fire in his throat, fire against his skin as he battled towards those desperate cries. Fire, an ocean of fire, threatening to break over Dean's shattered body. Fire, silencing the screams of the Night Owls and staking a claim over his brother's life. A claim Dean had barely been able to wrangle back.

Burning, burning, burning, burning....

Dean woke up with Sam shaking him, a wail dying on his lips. Nightmares. Always nightmares.

"You were screaming again." Sam informed him, brow creased with anxiety. "Also Jo's outside, she says she wants you to teach her how to swing."

Groaning, Dean rolled to his feet. Why couldn't Jo teach herself, like Dean had done? "She does know I'm self-taught, right? She knows I haven't been doing this for as long as she thinks I have?"

All Sam could do in response to this was shrug wearily. Jo's enthusiasm over her newfound, albeit clumsy, powers was grating on his nerves too. Luckily, he didn't have to deal with it.

Jo stood outside the door, bouncing on her toes. Her costume, gold splashed with black, sparked light in the harsh artificial light of the hallway. Dean squinted at her, pulling on his own red and black clothes. The wear and tear had been sewn up, and though his original mask had been lost to flames, a replacement hung from his hand like a rag soaked in blood.

"You are far too energetic for so early in the morning."

"And you're far too obvious. What if Cas sees us? Let's go! Hurry!" Jo yanked her mask down over her head, sprinting for the stairs. Dean trailed after her, carefully tucking his mask on. It still felt a little stiff and new. Hopefully he'd wear it in with enough back talking and laughter rather than threats and tears.

Dean joined Jo on the rooftop. She was on the ledge, arms out slightly as if to better enjoy the breeze. God, if only Ellen could see her now. Chuckling, Dean strode to her side and adjusted his gloves, looking around for the best place for a beginner to swing.Jo simply danced on the ledge, as elegant as the spider she'd chosen the name of.

"Are you ready, Golden Orb Weaver?" Dean teased. At Jo's nod, he took her hand and raised it, folding the fingers in the correct position. "This hand position increases the strength of the web blast. I'm going to let you learn to aim by yourself, do you think you can do that?"

"Course I can." Jo hesitated, arm still raised. "You'll catch me if I fail, right?"

"No promises." 

The door to the rooftop creaked and Cas walked out, dressing gown fluttering behind him. He paused when he saw Dean and Jo, both frozen on the ledge. Slowly, his eyes slid to Jo and his face darkened. A red flush crawled its way up his cheeks. Ah. Yes, perhaps avoiding Cas on the rooftop for the last week may have sent the wrong message. Dean hopped off the ledge and strode over to Cas, pushing his mask up over his nose to kiss him, pressing a hand into the small of Cas's back, staking a claim.

When he finally pulled away, Jo had joined them and gave a small bow. "Hi! I'm Golden Orb Weaver."

"My protégé." Dean explained. "Weaver, this is Cas. My boyfriend."

There was no missing the glow on Cas's face at the title. "Good to meet you. Maybe you can make sure this spidery lunatic doesn't get himself killed?"

"I can try my best, Mr. Cas." said Jo, expertly acting the role of a complete stranger.

Cas smiled and simply walked past them, heading towards a single raised garden bed he'd been fussing over for the past few days. "Well, you two have fun. I'll see you tonight, Spider-Man?" He asked anxiously.

Dean smiled and squeezed Cas's hand, pulling his mask back over his face. "Of course you will. Weaver, aim then jump."

"Way ahead of you." Jo shot out a web that was in no way aimed at anything and launched herself of the side of the building, giving a great shriek of laughter. There was barely time for Dean and Cas to exchange exasperated glances before Dean was running, throwing himself over the edge after Jo and rocketing towards her falling body.

He caught her mere yards above the ground and scrambled, slowing their fall with a few frantic steps. "I told you to aim!"

"Hey, it's not exactly easy." Jo pointed out. "Besides, no harm done."

"I won't always be here to catch you!"

The two were so busy arguing on the street that neither noticed the little girl until she reached up to poke Dean in the hip. "Excuse me, Spider-Man?"

Den and Jo both glanced down at her. She couldn't have been older than five, and she was standing as tall as she could, blinking back tears with a brave face. Dean and Jo exchanged a baffled glance before Dean dropped to one knee to be at eye level. He'd found over time that talking down to people, both figuratively and metaphorically, was never the way to go.

"What's the matter kiddo?"

"Have you seen my mummy? She's this tall with black hair and calls me Jay." The little girl tried to reach up to indicate the height, but barely managed to reach past Dean's chest. Jo gave a suppressed coo of delight, clasping her hands against her chest.

"May I pick you up?" When Jay nodded, Dean picked her up and held her lightly against his chest. Perhaps this would be a good first mission for Jo, as long as little Jay knew what was happening... He gestured for Jo to walk away and held Jay away from him so they could talk face to face and nodded to Jo's retreating back.

"See her?"

Jay dug her fingers into Dean's arm and lifted her chin to see. "Yes?"

"That's Golden Orb Weaver. Weaver for short. She's my new apprentice, and I need a mission for her. Would you mind if I let her take you back to your mother?" When Jay hesitated, Dean added, "I'll be following the whole time, and there's a lollipop in it for you. Provided you don't have allergies."

Jay wiped her nose on her sleeve and nodded. When Dean passed her over to Jo, harassed his mask to give her a wink over Jo's shoulder. Jay, still looking wide eyed and nervous, merely held up a hand in a wave as Jo started jogging down the street, calling out for Jay's mother.


	3. Paper Hearts

Dean lay in the centre of the web strung between the buildings, lazily waving his hands through the heavy shower of rain. Despite the promises made this morning, Cas was running late. Most likely due to the rain, but still, it hurt.

The rain picked up, the wind whipping strands of silk around like tentacles, furious as Dean crawled around to stick them back down. Maybe he should just give up and go inside. Sighing, Dean crawled back onto the roof and started gathering up the silk, reeling it around his hand. 

"Spider-Man!" Dean looked up as Cas called out, voice crackling in the rain. Seeing him there, coat fluttering around his legs and hair hanging in his eyes, it was easy for Dean to forget about the rain, the wind, and the bitter cold. Cas's blue eyes flashed, and it was as though a match had been struck in his heart. Without even meaning to, Dean started walking into the stairwell to join him in the shelter.

As soon as the rain stopped battering against him, the cold set in. Dean shivered and huddled against Cas, doing his best to steal what little body heat Cas possessed. "You're late." He said through chattering teeth.

"Yeah?" Cas said quietly. "It's raining. I wanted to find an umbrella."

"I thought you weren't going to come."

It was meant to be nonchalant, something to laugh off as ridiculous. Instead Dean's voice cracked and he trailed into silence, face heating under the mask. Oh god. He'd screwed his one up. Why wasn't Cas saying anything? For a moment Dean contemplated heading back out into the rain just to escape Cas's unreadable stare.

It seemed to take forever before Cas squeezed Dean's hand in gentle reassurance, focus still on the storm outside. "I'd never do that, Spi. I'm not the petty type."

Relief was like a warm coal in Dean's chest, flooding through his body so that when he dipped Cas for a kiss, the blissful heat blazed against Cas's soft lips. When the kiss ended, Dean just held Cas there, smiling against his mouth, fingers itching to rip the mask away and kiss him again, this time flat against the wall. "I love when you call me that."

"Spi." Cas drawled softly, and gave a peal of laughter when Dean swung him into his arms, peppering his face with tiny kisses.

"Let's go back to your room," Dean rasped, spinning Cas in a slow, lazy circle, "And continue this conversation in bed."

A tiny wrinkle formed between Cas's brows and he stiffened slightly in Dean's arms." I don't want to do... that."

Thunder boomed outside, an explosion of light and sound. 

"We can watch Netflix, then." Dean crooned, his heart racing. "I just want to get you out of the rain before you catch a cold, love."

Lightning crackled, a great slash of light across the clouds like an open wound, briefly lighting the world in electric light. The brilliance illuminated Cas's face as he smiled his agreement, burying his face in Dean's chest.

Halfway down the hall to Cas's apartment, the pair smacked directly in Sam, who was dripping wet. His eyes skidded past Dean, then snapped back with an expression of shock on his scarred face. He seemed about to say something, but shut his mouth at Dean's indiscernible head shake. 

"Sam, Spi. Spi, this is my neighbour Sam." Said Cas, still oblivious to the goings-on around him.

"How do you do?" Said Sam stupidly, before he continued along home and shut the door behind him. Cas just shook his head affectionately and unlocked his own apartment door.

Cat's lounge room was warm and smelled of cinnamon and strawberries, the flames flickering in scented candles. It took everything Dean had not to take off his mask and his shoes and sit where he normally did when he and Cas and Jo had movie night.

Instead he asked for directions to the bathroom, and waited to be told to sit, and had Cas help him find the cups and plates to make popcorn, and let Cas put in his password for Netflix as if he hadn't been the one to set it up for Cas when he'd first moved in.

They picked _Paper Hearts_ and settled together on the couch, a tangle of limbs beneath a woollen blanket, sharing a hot chocolate in the heavy rain.

"How'd the training with Weaver go today?" Cas murmured softly, resting his cheek on Dean's shoulder. Absently, Dean started running his fingers through Cas's thick black hair, teasing the gentle waves with his fingertips.

"It was not good. Well, not good for Weaver. Pretty funny from my point of view."

"Oh?"

"Weaver got too excited getting a mugger away from a girl and got knifed. When she tried to punch the mugger, she elbowed a police officer in the nose and broke it. So I had to pick her up from the station. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to pick up a junior superhero from jail? They asked me for ID and there was a solid ten seconds where we just stared at each other."

Cas didn't seem to know whether to laugh or cry. He snuggled against Dean, pulling the blanket over their shoulders as the thunder rolled outside, obscuring the heroine's dialogue on the screen and making Dean jump. _There's nothing to worry about._ He scolded himself. _You've never been afraid of thunder before, why now?_

The thunder roared again and Dean realised it hadn't been his heart that had pounded. It had been Cas's, racing beneath Dean's hand like a frightened songbird.

"Shhh, love." Dean started trail his fingers across Cas's chest, soft as a feather, and slowly, slowly, Cas seemed to calm down under the touch. Beautiful blue eyes like sapphires watched Dean blearily, before fluttering shut and disappearing under the blanket, curling into a ball. Baffled, Dean moved his hand away.

One hand snaked out of the wool, clinging to Dean's wrist. "Don't stop. Please."

Dean chuckled softly and began to explore further, his hands travelling up and down the length of Cas's chest, sweeping motions from hip to collarbone, moving inwards layer by layer until Dean was touching warm skin, beautiful warm skin. Smiling, Dean pulled Cas closer to him and pushed his hands under Cas's shirt, trailing his touch around and up Cas's back.

His bandaged, board-stiff back.

Cas stiffened and flew backwards like a cat, screeching and scrambling away from Dean, tugging his shirt back down to cover himself. "Get your hands off me! Jesus! Get out!"

"What? What?" Dean had managed to find himself on the ceiling, stretched out like a starfish. Evidently, Cas was not the only one who had jumped in shock. What was going on? The mood had been perfect. Soft, warm, romantic. What had gone wrong?

Cas took a shaky breath and pointed to the window, sliding down the wall with his head in his hands. "You need to go. Now. Please."

It was still raining. Dean shakily lowered himself from the ceiling and padded to the window, flinging it open. Wind and rain blew inwards, sending the curtains spiralling and paper flying around the apartment. Dean took a breath and tossed himself into the night before he could glance back at his broken love, letting the wind carry him like a seed from a dandelion. The wails of the broken-hearted heroine on the television followed him into the dark.


	4. Behind His Back

Jo was perched on the counter when Dean got home from work, redressing the bandages on her bicep and wincing. As quietly as he could, Dean shut the door and leaned on it to simply observe her picking at the stitches with the concentration of a drunk teenager using a claw machine.

"Having fun?"

Jo shrieked and leaped off the counter, clutching her heart with wide eyes. "Dean! You scared the living bejeezus out of me!"

Laughing, Dean sauntered over and finished dressing the wound for her. "Y'know, it'll heal faster if you don't touch the stitches." He said, giving her a light punch on the arm. In retaliation Jo clambered back onto the counter to put him in a headlock, digging her knuckles into his scalp with a malicious grin. Almost immediately, she winced and jumped back, hissing in a breath of pain.

"Yeah, being stabbed'll do that to you." Dean said with a raise of his eyebrow. "Listen, Jo, I have a favour to ask you. It's about Cas."

This caught Jo's attention. She looked up sharply, blonde hair falling in waves into her face with the sudden movement. "Is he okay? Is it because of me? Oh, god, have I come between you two somehow?"

"No, no." Dean raised his hands quickly, a desperate effort to calm Jo down despite the grin already playing on her face. "He's hurt, that's all. And now that I think about it, he's never let me touch his back. I tried to, the other day, and it was covered in bandages. He panicked and kicked me out. I want to go ask Gabriel about it."

Jo sighed and put her head in her hands, fingers digging into her scalp as the sigh grew and lengthened into something more akin to a wounded animal's roar. Nervously, confusedly, Dean took a few steps back. Was she dying? He wouldn't put it past her to simply drop dead on the kitchen table purely for the drama of it all. Since the spider had bitten her and she'd killed it in retaliation, Jo had become even more of a drama queen than before.

"So let me get this straight." Jo began.

"I'm not." Dean interjected. So rarely came the opportunity to say that, he just had to to take it.

Jo ignored him and continued as if Dean hadn't even spoken, hopping off the kitchen counter to grab Dean by the shoulders. "Let me get this straight. You think your boyfriend might have a severe, long-term injury on his back, and instead of actually _talking_ to him about it, you're going to go behind his back– pun intended– and ask his brother?"

Well, put like that... Dean squirmed a little and took a seat on the couch. "No. I mean, yeah. I can't talk to Cas about it. It's weird."

"Fine. Fine! You do you. Do you really trust this city to run itself while you're gone, though?"

"Absolutely not. That's why I'm leaving _you_ ," Dean poked Jo just below her collarbone with a grin, "in charge. Congratulations, you're a superhero now. In charge of a whole city."

"Oh." Said Jo, sat down heavily, eyes wide. "You sure I'm ready for this?"

"I have complete faith in you. Jodie and Donna do their best in this city and they're beginning to like me a little bit. Just..." Dean massaged his temples slightly. "Just don't start a fire, okay? Don't give them a reason to hate masked heroes. I'm going in the morning to do a story for the newspaper, quote unquote, and I'll take Sam with me. I don't trust him."

Jo simply stared for a moment, eyes blank. Then she fixed her attention on the closed door of the room Sam shared with Charlie. "You don't trust Sam? Still?"

"I don't trust Charlie either, which goes without saying." Dean pointed out. "I'm not going to leave you to look after the pair of them _and_ Cas as well. I'm taking Sam with me."

\---

A few heartfelt goodbyes and teary lies later, Sam and Dean found themselves on the train out of the city, buildings whipping past the windows and dissolving into rolling green hills and small, colourful cottages dotting the fields as the sun began to dip below the horizon.

Sam's head was resting on Dean's shoulder. His mouth was slightly ajar, every breath a soft, gentle pressure on Dean's neck. He looked so young and vulnerable, sleeping with his face turned into Dean's shirt to hide the scar. Dean smiled, a tiny, tired smile that flickered on his lips, and brushed a lock of hair from Sam's forehead.

The last time the brothers had been on a train, Dean had been twelve and Sam had been eight. Social services had trusted Dean to look after his little brother on the trip to meet Bobby at the station. The memory flashed through Dean's mind, running into Bobby's arms and collapsing into him, Sam trudging along behind dragging a suitcase. Their father had just died, leaving them orphaned, but they had each other back then. They still do.

Sam sighed quietly in his sleep and nuzzled into Dean's chest, as the stars blossomed across the sky.


	5. Gabriel

The bus dropped them off at Shirley's Home for Children at midday on Tuesday.

It was a nice place, bringing to mind Xavier's Home for Gifted Youngsters. Except much, much smaller. And with wooden boards over one window. The sun glinted off a lone bike lying in the driveway as Sam and Dean walked up from the road, shoulders back and chins up to appear much more confident than they felt.

"So, Cas is an orphan?" Sam asked curiously. "How'd you even know he lived here?"

"Gabriel's his brother, remember? He told me they both grew up here. Them and a bunch of other kids."

At the mention of Gabriel Sam stumbled, sprawling against the driveway with a wince and a yelp. "Ah! Ow! Dean–"

"Keep up!" Dean barked. He pivoted on his heel, intent on helping Sam back to his feet, but stopped short. Sam hadn't even tried to get up. Rather he'd curled into a ball, tucking his face into his knees, shoulders shaking with rhythmic sobs. Crying. Crying on a stranger's driveway.

"D-Dean," Sam looked up, tears streaming down his cheeks like a waterfall. "I... I... Gabriel, he... I didn't tell you, I didn't warn you, it's my fault, I...!"

"Sam? Dean? What are you guys doing here?" The door swung open and Gabriel stepped out onto the gravel, barefoot and wearing flannel pyjamas. His hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction like he'd just rolled out of bed.

"Gabriel!" Sam tossed himself towards Gabriel, who simply enveloped him in a hug, and despite being ridiculously shorter, didn't even stagger at Sam's weight. When they finally broke apart, both of them were smiling through tears.

Dean just looked from one to the other, bewildered. "Have I missed something? Sam, if I knew you missed him that much, I would've taken you to visit weeks ago."

"I thought you were _dead_ , Gabriel!" Sam wailed.

Gabriel laughed nervously and reached up to ruffle Sam's hair. "Don't be dramatic. I told you I was visiting my dad, remember?"

"Hey!" Dean cupped his hands over his mouth to amplify his shout, " _What _is going on?"__

"Little kiddo here must've missed me. Steady on, Sam." Gabriel stood up on his toes to sling an arm around Sam's shoulder, but Sam was shaking his head with an awestruck expression.

Gently, Sam squirmed out of Gabriel's grip. "No, Gabriel, it's okay. Dean knows. He's Spider-Man."

"What!" Gabriel shouted, at the same moment that Dean gagged out, "Sam! So funny! Ha! Ha!"

Gabriel pushed Sam away and strode towards Dean, cupping his face in his hands and turning his head this way and that is though inspecting. "Spider-Man." Gabriel breathed softly. "An honour. Come, come inside. We have a lot to talk about."

\---

The Shirley House was about as chaotic as Dean had expected, a whirlwind of introductions and talking and shaking hands. Michael, Raphael, Lucifer, Hannah, Balthazar, Samandriel, Jack, Duma, Naomi– So many faces that they began to blur together into one mass, names and voices combining into a slur.

"Does nobody ever move out of here?" Sam wondered aloud.

"Not really, no. They hang around like a bad smell." Dean whipped around instinctively, crouching over Sam in a defensive position, one hand outstretched to shoot a web at a moment's notice.

A middle-aged man in a dressing gown and slippers held up his hands in a frantic gesture of peace. "Cool it, man. Chuck Shirley. You two must be Sam and Dean, am I right?"

"Hey dad." Gabriel said, ducking back into the room. He didn't hug Chuck or anything, just raised his chin a little. "We're just passing through. Can you keep Sam and Jack off the porch for a bit? Business talk."

Sam raised his hand indignantly, mouth open to protest, but he quietened as Gabriel jerked a thumb at Samandriel. The teenager was lurking at the door, listening in, but when he realised he'd been spotted, he bolted like a jackrabbit. This brought a tiny smile to Dean's face. _Brothers._

"Sure thing. Don't be long." 

Gabriel carefully herded Dean and Sam out to the porch, sitting them down on rickety metal chairs before taking the seat opposite them. The whole time, he wouldn't break eye-contact with Dean. It used to be that Dean was able to read Gabriel no problem. They'd been colleagues. Friends. But now, Gabriel's eyes were as blank and steely as knives. Dean folded his arms across his chest defensively, trying desperately to ignore the frosty atmosphere of the Shirley garden.

"You left me to die." Gabriel hissed. "Did you even give me a second thought?"

"Excuse me?" 

"Do you know how long I was down there? I don't. It's impossible to keep track of time when you're half dead and buried in the remains of a building _you two_ destroyed."

Dean's mind raced. Gabriel. Remains of the building. Oh god. _Gabriel had been in the building when it exploded._

"I'm so sorry, Gabriel, I didn't know. I swear I didn't know." The look on Gabriel's face... He'd really believed he'd been abandoned. Dean's heart stuttered painfully in his chest.

Gabriel brushed a lock of hair out of his face and peered at Dean through his lashes. "Maybe you didn't. But Sam did."

"There was nothing I could do!" Sam cried immediately. He was shaking, fingers clenched around the edge of the rusty table. "I didn't want to tell you, Dean, there was so much going on already. I told Cas a couple days, and he cried a lot, but he never mentioned it again."

"You told Cas." Gabriel murmured, cupping his chin in his hands. "And Cas must have told Angel."

This caught Dean's attention. He snapped his head up to face Gabriel. "Angel? He's alive?"

"Officially, no. Public records say he died two years ago, after a bullet wound to the chest and another to the wing." Gabriel exhaled noisily. "Rough few months. I was the one who had to heal him in secret and hide the scars every time he went outside with his shirt off. But yes, he is alive."

For a moment there was silence, a tense, heavy silence that descended like a blanket over the porch.

Sam broke it. "Where is he now? Angel?"

"I..." Gabriel paused. "I don't know. Not exactly. But you two are going to see him in your city. And soon."


End file.
